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"Well, you can. I'd love to see where you moved."
"Ok then, tomorrow at...?"
"Six," Rhyna agreed.
"Six it is," The elevator came to a halt leaving both of them speechless.
Her teeth brushed down on her supple lower lip as she went ahead to ask, "You want to come in?"
Adjusting his frame over the bridge of his nose, Namjoon spoke, "Some other time maybe, I should get going for now."
"Your call," Rhyna smiled as she observed his presence, dissipating with the doors reaching out for each other's front.
"Have a good night."
"Night," With her last enunciation, he descended, leaving her state to ponder oblivion with her gaze rooted on the same vista.
Realization walloped, implying her to move inside her apartment. She set down the keys in the translucent ivory ornament, depressed enough to accommodate petite articles. A battle raged within the ruminating troops and Rhyna didn't sense being carried to her bedroom, she was all too caught up in this operation.
After easing herself out, she was called in by her journal from the insipid await of Hoseok's forthcoming appearance.
May 2016, Thursday
Returning home each time, gets me brooding over the past instances. Pondering over them is a shame to the serene present I'm gifted with but why can't I just let go of it? He still exists, with the containment of endearments I've always tried to discard from within. Then, why can't I triumph over it? He can't be mine, he isn't mine, never was, never could be then, why haven't I moved on even after everything? Even after the first meet-up with Liora? Even after knowing he's been taken away by someone?
Why can't 'love' be one of those fairytales fed to us in childhood?
The ring on the door made Rhyna close her journal and bury it underneath the cozy mattress. She trotted down the hallway, welcoming Hoseok inside after unlatching the door.
"I'm home," Hoseok said.
"What took you so long?" She glanced over the paper bags he'd been holding onto as he ambled inside, leaving her to shut the entrance on her way.
He seized his footsteps in the living room, dropping the bags on the coffee table, "This," He let his eyes contact hers, "is an apology to you."
Rhyna, without giving it much thought, peeped through one of them and a two-inch of space, fabricated between the proximity of her lips, "Hobi you didn't have to do this, I already forgave you."
